


Swings

by PerserveranceNotLOVE



Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Alternate Universe - Soulmates, F/M, Soul Bond, Soulmates
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-12-16
Updated: 2019-12-16
Packaged: 2021-02-25 21:20:53
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,764
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21822082
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PerserveranceNotLOVE/pseuds/PerserveranceNotLOVE
Summary: Continuation of Chapter 9 of Worth It. Anchor shenanigans and angst out the wazoo!
Relationships: Female Inquisitor & Solas, Fen'Harel/Female Inquisitor, Solas & Original Female Character(s)
Comments: 2
Kudos: 8





	1. Chapter 1

Dorian is the first to bring it up.

"Your world has so many weird words," Dorian complains, stretching out in his chair.

I tilt my head, eyes still on the book in my hands, "Oh? Like what?"

He rolls his head over to glance at me, "Like what you said on the battlefield the other day. Jesus Christ, I believe. Is that some sort of curse word?"

I snort, "Not exactly. Andraste is to you what Jesus Christ is to me. And technically, Christ is his title, not his last name. But we all treat it like it is."

"So, it's blasphemy, then!" he cries out delightedly.

I sigh and shut my book, hoping that no one in the rotunda below or rookery above heard that, "Kind of? I guess? I dunno, I just yell it when I'm pissed or frustrated."

Dorian turns to fully face me in his chair, though it does put him at an awkward angle, "And what about the other day, when you were bantering with that one Venatori in battle? The one who threatened to tie you up and hang you from a cliff?"

"Unimaginative bunch, that lot," I click my tongue in disapproval, "Which part are you asking about? Cuz I cussed at him a lot."

"Well, I'm specifically referring to when you said that you weren't 'into him like that'," Dorian arches an eyebrow, "Correct me if I'm wrong, but he didn't exactly say anything flirtatious, unless my methods of flirtation are sorely outdated."

I blink at him, "Well, you know, cuz he threatened to tie me up."

Dorian's expression doesn't change.

My face colours a little, and I weakly offer, "BDSM?"

No hint of recognition. I groan, rubbing my face with my hand and attempting to will my blush away, "Please, please tell me you know what that is."

"If I knew what it was, I would have said so. That said, you are turning the most delightful shade of red currently! Shall I assume it's sexual in nature?" Dorian queries.

My face gets even redder. By now, I probably resemble a tomato. "Y-Yes. It, uh, it stands for... Well, it stands for 'bondage, discipline, sadism, masochism'. Ah, well, technically it means more than that. Bondage and discipline, domination and submission, sadism and masochism. It's not just sexual either....its based on trust."

Dorian laughs, "You don't have to go into detail if you don't want! But does that have anything to do with how you called Cassandra a 'power bottom' the other day?"

I shove my face into my hands, "Yes, yes it does. How do you not know what a bottom is?!"

"Apparently we're far more prudish than your own homeland," Dorian teases, ignoring my immediate mutter of, "Bullshit."

I lift my head slightly and breathe until I'm sure that my face is normal. Finally, I sit up straight and adopt a tone more suitable for explaining theory than giving one of my vest friends a sex talk, "Okay, so in BDSM, there are many roles. The easiest two are top and bottom. Bottoms typically give most of the power to the Toppers, though people called Power Bottoms can kinda direct how things go despite being a Bottom. There's plenty of different things people may identify as. Some like the normal Dom and Sub stuff, others may take it a bit further with Master and Slave play. Again, I reiterate that everything is based on trust and therefore has to be consensual."

I had added in that last bit cuz Dorian had looked a bit angry at the Master/Slave stuff. I don't blame him, especially with how prevalent slavery is in this world.

His face smoothes over quickly, "I see. I assume with all this information, you must have a little personal experience. Care to share?"

My face immediately flares right back to blood red, "I-Uh, kinda? Not...not really? I...I've never really done...any of _that._ " I gesture helplessly, unable to properly word my statement.

His face lights up like a fucking Christmas tree. Bastard.

"Oh? Is our Lady Inquisitor a blushing virgin?" Dorian teases.

I throw my book at him, still flushed, "I-I took a quiz and it called me a Switch, which is s-someone who can be either d-dominating or s-submissive. Can we talk about _literally anything else?!_ "

Dorian laughs, catching the book, "Don't be throwing the books around, that's my job!"

"You should not be throwing them at all, Master Pavus."

My face pales considerably, the sudden change from blood rushing into my face to blood rushing out of it making me a bit light headed. I forgot that Solas was in the Rotunda right below....

I flee from the library, Leliana's faint giggles following me into the Great Hall.

* * *

Sera and I are sprawled out on the roof of the armory, dropping water and dirt on people below when she brings it up.

"So, I got to talking with Dorian, yeah?"

I immediately see where this is going and my face colours, "O-Oh? About what?"

"You know what, Quizzytits! The swing thingy!" Sera pokes me.

My brain goes blank and I frown, "Swing thingy? Like, tire swing?"

She blinks at me, "No clue what that is. No, I mean the swing thingy! When you're bumping bits!"

I stare at her in bemusement, "I assure you, I have no earthly idea what you mean."

She groans, "Ya know, when you like it from both sides? Like, I dunno, when you order people to do shite, but you also follow orders, yeah? Except, fun."

I hide my face in my hand, "You mean a Switch?"

"Yeah, the swing thingy!"

"Switch."

"Whatever, I just want to know what it's like."

"...Sera, please shut up and dump more water on people."

"Fine, but I want more bees!"

"Deal."

* * *

After that, I end up having to explain to a very curious Leliana and Josephine about the concept, which is a lot easier since those two are probably some of my best friends here. Still, the two end up teasing me like no tomorrow and leaving me wondering if my face would be permanently red.

Cass corners me, too, wondering what on earth Sera has been shouting lately about swings, which ends up being a very awkward conversation.

And apparently, whatever is out there that presides over awkward conversations is paying a special sort of attention to me, based on what happens in the Great Hall not three days after Dorian first brought it up.

I'm just sitting and minding my own business when Cole appears nearby me. I pause from talking to Josie and turn to give the cutie a smile. 

He comes closer and tilts his head like a puppy, "You said that I could come to you, to ask how I can help people if I don't know how."

I smile wider and nod, "Of course, Cole. Who needs help?"

Cole frowns a bit, "I can't say, he doesn't want anyone to know. Aching, searing pain in my soul. I want to see her smile...

I laugh a bit and Josie giggles, "It sounds like someone has some heart troubles. Tell me more."

"She looks at me and sees me, always has a smile for me. I want to give her the stars but everything I touch breaks... Oh, that's odd. Why would he want that?"

I blink. Josie leans forward, truly enthralled by this newest bit of gossip, "Oh, do say more! What does he wish?"

Cole frowns further, "Skin soft as silk against my own, eyes staring up at me in pure trust, I didn't know her people had words for that. He wants.... Something. Why would he want to see you-"

By the second sentence, I had suddenly realized exactly what he was talking about, and who the likely target of the unknown thinker's thoughts are. I clap my hand over his mouth, face blazing red as Josephine gasps in delight, eyes shining with mirth. 

I glower at her before turning back to Cole, now pink cheeked, "Ah, Cole, some thoughts are very...private. I suppose the best you can do to help them is to get them to confess to me somehow."

Cole blinks at me, looking almost awed, "How did you know it was about you?"

I sigh, "The thing about the words and 'her people' and... Whatever. Uh, why don't you go check on Leli, Cole? You know how much she loves the honey you put in her drinks."

Cole obediantly leaves, leaving me to slump in the throne with a giggling Josie next to me.

When she finally has control of herself, she straightens and holds her clipboard at the ready. I sit up, eager to get back to business.

"Shall I arrange a ceremony soon, then?"

"Go to hell, Josie."

* * *

Despite attempting to drown myself in ale that night, those thoughts start to really bug me. I've always prided myself on being a reasonable sort, never jumping to conclusions or looking too deeply into the words of a friend, but I guess not knowing who though about me like that cancels that out.

I actually end up gathering together Leli, Cass, Josie, Vivi, and Dagna for a girl's day just so I could let them help me with it. I've never been especially good at much, especially when it involves romantic stuff.

We all end up going to my room with several cases of different alcohols and chocolates for our girl's day. As Josie is the only one who knows exactly why I wanted to have a girl's day, she is practically vibrating with excitement as we climb the stairs up into my room.

My room is an understated thing, looking mostly how it does in game with a few exceptions. The first is that my bed is up on the balcony area, and the balcony itself has been slightly altered to have a bit of wall conveniently obscuring all visibility of where I sleep. There's still a bed down on the normal level, but it's pretty much just for show. It is comfortable enough to sleep in, but I prefer my little corner. It's also big enough for am of us to crowd onto it, though Vivi claims the small couch instead.

As soon as she's plopped herself down, Viviene queries, "Don't tell me that you decided to host this out of the blue, darling. You have a look about you that suggests otherwise."

Leliana casts a glance my way, "Is this about what I overheard you speaking to Dorian?"

"The swings?" Cassandra asks, eyebrows furrowing.

I instantly flush, "Switch, Cass, switch. And, uh, no. Not about that. In fact, can we agree never to talk about that again?"

"I don't know, it seemed awfully interesting from my perspective," Leliana teases, picking up one of the many chocolates from the box.

I throw a pillow at her, a strangled yelp threatening to leave my throat. I swallow it down as she dodges, and state sternly, "That isn't why I asked for your presence. Recently, I've been informed by Cole that I've an...admirer."

"You have many admirers, darling, be more specific." Vivienne inspects her bottle of wine.

I sit back down and admit, "Cole...didn't tell me. Just that whoever it is felt that they 'break everything they touch' and...uh.."

Josie cuts in gleefully, "And that whoever her admirer is has been having some rather lascivious thoughts about our Inquisitor. Ah, pardon my interruption."

Cass goes about as red as I do. Though to be fair, hers is probably Swords and Sheilds fueled. I mean, come on. Powerful woman leader is being lusted after by someone unknown? Total smut material.

...I feel like I'm breaking something here, so moving on!

Leliana just shrugs, "Many people have such thoughts about you, it was bound to happen with you being a woman. I fail to see the issue."

I flounder for a moment, realizing that she's probably right. At the same time, the thought refuses to compute. Me, attractive? Back on earth I could barely catch someone's eye when I was actively trying to! It just...doesn't make sense.

They probably just like me for the power I hold. It doesn't take a genius to figure out that a match with me could get someone loads of land, people, and influence.

I droop a little, but Josie is quick to butt back in, "I normally would agree with you, but Cole implied that not only is it someone we know, but also someone that the Inquisitor trusts. Not to mention, I believe the phrase'wants to give her the stars' was used."

Now _that_ catches the others' attentions.

I stare in befuddlement as the lot of the women go from disintrigued and almost sympathetic to extremely interested in a heartbeat.

"Oh? So not only someone who knows you, but also someone who wants to marry you, then?" Dagna replies, a small grin starting to form.

I squeak, "W-What? No one said anything about wanting to m-marry me!"

"I know you are still getting used to our world, dear, so I'll forgive your ignorance in this," Vivienne declares, ignoring my pout, "The phrase used is one commonly used by one who truly wishes to marry another for love in Orlais. I believe it is used similarly in Ferelden and elsewhere. 'To give another the stars' is such a vast and impossible concept that one would only ever attempt it for love."

Cass sighs happily, "We have another phrase of similar style in Nevarra. It is... Less poetic, but romantic in my eyes. 'To punch a dragon mother in the snout.'"

I instantly snort. Vivienne rolls her eyes. Josie only raises an eyebrow, probably having seen a lit of weird customs before. Leliana doesn't look surprised, but giggles anyways. And I thing Dagna is just intruiged by the prospect of punching a mother dragon in the face.

Cass processes our reactions and the petulant expression that forms is so unlike her that it almost has me rolling, "It _is_ romantic! To risk life and limb for another, dodging the dragon's breath and attacks just to get close enough to punch it, after which you would probably die from being too close unless you were very strong? Not to mention a mother dragon is more aggressive than other dragons!"

"Looking at it that way, I see your point," Dagna allows, an agreeing hum following her from me.

"Back on topic, who is he? Or she?" Leliana casts a glance to Josie.

"Cole phrased it like the thinker was a male," Josie answers promptly.

"That doesn't narrow things down," Dagna frowns, "There are a bunch of dudes in the inner circle that she trusts."

Vivienne, with the air of someone who already knows the answer, asks, "And why do you think it is one of the Inner Circle?"

Dagna starts digging in the crate of chocolate as she explains, "You said it's someone the Inquisitor trusts, right? Well, the only people she actually trusts are the people that know where she actually comes from, that Other World. Which only the advisors, Inner Circle, and I know. And that one mageling who's been following her around lately. Cirilla or something?"

"We know it isn't a girl, so that eliminates quite a bit of the Inner Circle. It leaves only Blackwall, Solas, and Cullen," Leliana hums thoughtfully.

None of us really need an explanation why Varric or Cole are included in that.

"Why not Dorian or the Iron Bull?" Cass asks.

This one I can answer, "Because those two have their heads shoved in each other's asses. And some days I can't tell if they know that or not."

Cass snorts, though her face does tinge pink again. I inwardly laugh at the thought of another person dealing with what I have over the last few days.

"I...doubt it's Warden Blackwall," Josie states, almost managing to hide her blush. Unfortunately for her, I've played the game so many times that I know exactly what she means. Also, Leli is a spymaster, Vivi can read anyone like a book, and Cass can sniff out romances like no one's business. 

The only confused one is Dagna, "What do you mean?"

I start snickering, "It means our dear Ambassador and the Warden are courting, my lovely Arcanist."

"Is this revenge for calling you Inquisitor during down time?" Josie queries, "Because if so, I will stop."

I only smile at her, swallowing my laughter.

"Back to the issue at hand, we now know that it can only be either the apostate or the commander," to Vivienne's credit, she doesn't even grimace at saying 'apostate' anymore.

I frown lightly, "But Cullen and I barely get a chance to talk, and Solas..."

Images flashes through my mind.

_- <·>-_

_I'd just gotten done regaling the fledgling Inner Circle with my past and home world. Most of them look curious, suspicious, or otherwise engaged in my story. Solas just looks disinterested._

_-_

_Redcliff happened. The mages became our allies. Nightmares haunt me of hands pushing me away from my attempt to hug him, a rasping voice informing me that I shouldn't get too close. Somehow I realized he wasn't just talking about the corruption lingering around him._

_-_

_I brought him the book he wanted, admiring his painting on the walls. The speed at which he walked away from me had me drooping._

_- <·>-_

"He would never like me like that," I admit quietly, "He treats me like a diseased person or an invalid half the time, and a child the other half."

"Perhaps, but that may also be him simply trying to keep you safe, albeit in a fumbling and silly manner," Leliana responds, "He perhaps sees you as something worth protecting."

"You just have to show him your independence!" Dagna says cheerfully, "I mean, you do act kinda submissive around most of your inner circle, maybe you just have to show him that you aren't really."

Cass perks up at the familiar word and somehow I just know what she's gonna say before she actually says it, "So you just have to show that you can swing, yes?"

"Dammit, Cass! Switch!"


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Some shit happens. Big oof, Quizzy.

I bury my head in my hands, not bothering to keep my groan of annoyance to myself. I'm down in a little study hidden in the keep, one that looks like it's been untouched for decades at least. I had to go somewhere to hide, especially with the girls hounding after me to talk to him.

I just...

I can't.

He doesn't like me. I doubt he ever will. He makes a point to only ever interact with me in the course of study and duty nowadays. Back in Haven and a few weeks into our stay at Skyhold, we had a pretty decent friendship. It may have been a bit distant from his own fears that I know his secret, but I tore that down bit by bit...

Or so I thought, anyways.

I wanted to show him I cared. I wanted to show him that he needn't be alone. I wanted...well, it doesn't matter now, does it? He's pushed me away, and he's stubborn enough to keep me at arm's length.

The thought has me feeling a little numb. I've already made peace long ago that if I couldn't show Solas that there's a better way, then I would have to... I would have to kill him. I don't... I don't want to. But I'll have to. Either my Inner Circle will make me or some noble asshole will rally the people to pressure me to.

I don't want to be in that position. I feel like I would die if I had to kill him. Probably because I would. I've never been the best at coping with the deaths of loved ones. Having a direct hand in the death of a loved one might actually do me in.

I bury my face further into my hands, "Stupid Wolf. Stupid Veil. Stupid Blight and Magisters and Nobles and Slavery and... Ugh."

"Are you alright, Inquisitor?"

My head snaps up, only to see the object of my thoughts staring at me from the doorway with an inscrutable look in his eyes. My face colours, something that's been happening more and more often as of late. This is the second time in a week that Solas has managed to overhear something sensitive! And I have no doubt he heard, he is an elf after all, and their hearing is remarkable.

I laugh weakly, waving it off, "Uh, yeah, I'm...fine."

His frown deepens, "Are you certain?"

My faux smile drops a little. I hate it when people who don't care try to act like they do. It leaves a pain in my chest at the thought.

"I'm fine," I repeat, "Just needed some time alone. What are you doing here?"

In answer, he holds up some books. I make a vague noise of acknowledgement and pull my knees to my chest before dropping my forehead onto them, "Don't let me stop you, then." I hear him walk over to a bookshelf and the sound of books sliding into place.

I close my eyes, trying to will the pain in my chest away. Objectively, I know that he probably pushed me away because he does care, but my heart is all too eager to tell me that he doesn't.

I don't want to let him do this to himself. I want him to live happy and unburdened. I want...

I just want him.

I snap out of my thoughts only to realize that I've stood up and crossed the room halfway towards where he stands, turned slightly towards me with a curious but guarded look.

I don't like that look.

"Why don't you like me anymore?" I blurt out, to both of our surprise. I was not going to say that! Putting him on the defensive is absolutely stupid!

I quickly backtrack, "It just seems like we never talk, and when we do... Well, it seems like I'm just... I dunno. I guess I'm being silly. Don't mind me."

The pain in my chest gets more intense, and I swear I see his own face shutter in pain for a second before the mask is donned once more.

"Usually, we are too busy for idle chat," he points out, "Regardless, I fail to see how it matters if I do like you or not. I get my duty done without problem."

I step backwards and allow myself to fall back into the seat, schooling my own face into the same one I've worn to see countless nobles with. Polite, distant, guarded. But the pain... I'm actually starting to suspect it's not just emotional.

"I see," I murmur, "Yes, you are right. Forgive my rudeness. Carry on."

I don't even hear him cross the room, I'm just focused on holding back the pain in my chest. From past experience, I know that holding myself still can keep it at bay and make it better.

A hand touches my forehead and I jerk away.

"Inquisitor, you are not well."

"I'm fine! I'm fine. Just go," I manage to get out in a relatively calm and level manner, "You have duties to get to, after all."

Dammit, what happened to being reasonable?! I told myself not to blame him or put him on the defensive and look what my big mouth just had to say!

His touch retreats, and after a few seconds I hear him respond with something and walk away. As soon as I hear the door close, I bring my hand up to my chest and channel healing magic through just how Vivienne showed me.

The pain doesn't stop and eventually I just let my hand fall limp onto my lap as I wait for it to pass.

It doesn't.


	3. Chapter 3

Weeks have passed since I spoke to Solas last. I admit, I've been avoiding him. In my defense, I don't want to talk to him while my mind is preoccupied.

And oh boy is it preoccupied.

Since then, this stupid pain in my chest will not go away! It's a fight just holding proper conversation without seeming too distracted, and I've been claiming exhaustion when I slip up. I've slowly gotten used to it, though it still feels like a damn knife twisting in my chest and ripping a wound open.

Trust me, it hurts.

I'm actually getting exhausted from how difficult it is to sleep at night, and I think Leliana at least has caught on. Maybe Iron Bull, too, given some of the comments he's made lately.

And it's Leliana that corners me first.

We're in the war room with the full Inner Circle, pretty much just goofing off with each other and debating on some of the issues at the war table when she does. 

She comes to stand right next to me where I stand at the head of the table and rather loudly queries, "Are you well, Inquisitor? My agents have reported you collapsing atop the battlements."

I grimace as the room shifts from talking to watching us. I remember that, I had been walking along the walls when a surge of pain ran through my chest, so intense that I fell to my knees and stated there for ten minutes just trying to adjust to it.

"I'm fine," I reply, turning back to the war table. The response is automatic by now, and I can tell she disapproves immediately.

"Boss, collapsing isn't fine," Bull points out.

I glance at him and back to the table with a sigh, "Don't worry, the incident in question was mainly just because I'm an idiot. I was just being overdramatic. I didn't realize anyone was around to see my theatrics, else I would have behaved with more propriety.".

Sera snaps out, "'Theatrics' or whatever don't leave you acting like a tit, or acting like you just ran a mile or something, yeah? I saw you sittin up on your balcony, breathing like...well, like you'd run a mile."

I wryly respond, "Sera, I live at the top of a bigass tower. With how many stairs I climb up, that isn't exactly unreasonable."

Josie comes around the table to grip my hands, and unusually serious look on her face, "Inquisitor, I know you wish to appear strong and undaunted by your trials, but please, go see a healer. If only to assuage our concerns."

I eye her suspiciously, "This was an intervention, wasn't it?"

She only smiles. Leliana responds for her, "Yes, it was. Many of us have noticed you having increasing issues lately, if it is the mark or an illness, we need to know. You are not just our leader, you are our friend."

I droop, relaxing my hands in Josie's hold, "Fine. Which healer?"

Cullen frowns, "If you are ill, it may be best for us to keep that to the Inner Circle." He glances at the three mages of the group.

Immediately, Dorian pipes up, "I'm afraid healing isn't quite in my expertise."

"My apologies, darling, but my own skills lay in other areas," Vivienne demures, "And I'm certain our resident apostate hasn't the...experience necessary."

Solas scowls at her, but turns to glance at Cullen. I don't miss the way he steadfastly ignores me, and the pain once more increases a bit.

"I know only a little, but it may be enough to determine if the Inquisitor is ill. I shall also check the Anchor, just in case."

Dorian pops up and drags Solas up with him, cheerfully saying, "Great! Then go and look at her, the faster we figure out what plagues our dear Inquisitor, the faster we put this all behind us."

I grumble to myself about not being sick, then clear my throat and say louder, "Very well. Clear out, you lot. If I'm having to have a check up, then I'm doing it in here where I can do some work while I'm at it."

There are some complaints by the louder members, though Leliana, Josie, and, oddly enough, Varric ushers everyone out before closing the door and leaving me with him.

I turn back to the table, "I will remain still. Do whatever you must."

I don't hear his footsteps for several moments and my eyes stay glued to get war table, trying to keep my attention on one of the missions.

My attention is shot as soon as his fingertips touch my hand.

He gently picks up my hand, and I keep it limp in his grasp as his magic probes at the mark. I feel it responding, the magic in the Anchor recognizing him and attempting to pull closer. This does have the effect of the Anchor flaring up and almost pulling a gasp of pain from me. The pain of the Anchor feels nothing like the agony in my chest, so I'm able to stay silent.

"The magic of the Anchor...It is as though it is..." I hear him murmur in disbelief.

Instantly, my curiosity is peaked, "What? What's it doing?"

He is silent for a moment, "It seems to be...spreading. Into you. I believe it may also be changing you."

My eyebrows furrow, "Changing me? Into what?"

Silence drags on and he continues to probe to Anchor and I grow impatient.

"Solas?" I prompt.

Solas drops my hand and our eyes meet. There's some desperate, vulnerable glint in his eyes that gives me the answer.

"Elvhen..." I whisper, staring at my hand. Almost as if in response, the Anchor flares up again.

Solas swallows and takes a good step back, "I... Yes. It has begun with your magic, it appears. Likely, you will begin to change physically as well."

The space he puts between us is like a physical blow, and I can't stop myself from needing to steady myself on the war table this time. He steps forward again and sets a hand on my shoulder, healing magic automatically swirling into me. The feeling sends a searing pain through my chest and my knees buckle, sending me to the ground.

He follows me, not speaking but eyebrows knit together in concern as he keeps up the flow of magic. I feel the magic in a way I never have before, and suddenly I realize what he meant when he said that it started with my magic.

Why does it hurt so much?

I don't even realize that I actually said that aloud until he gently pushes me to face him, "What do you mean? What hurts?"

I close my eyes and sag, "It doesn't matter. My chest, I guess."

"It most certainly does matter!"

"Does it? You didn't care until you said that the Anchor is making me like your people."

The silence is deafening.

"How long-?"

"Have I known? Since the beginning. Don't worry. I already know the anchor will kill me, you won't have to worry about someone knowing your secret for long."

When did I become so blasé about my death? Something is definitely wrong, and the worst part is that I don't even know how to fix it!

"Do not dare to imply such a thing ever again. I would never take comfort in the though of you..." His voice breaks at the end and I open my eyes. His face is maybe a foot from my own, and the close proximity allows me free access to watch the frustration and horror plain on his face.

Strangely, the pain almost seems to lessen.

I cast a fake smile his way, "I'm fine. You can tell the others that it's just the Anchor acting up."

To my surprise, he _growls_ at that, a low sound that has my eyes widening, "Do not. Do not make light of this. Do not try to... Do not do this."

I actually have no clue what the hell he's talking about and it must show rather plainly on my face. 

Solas explains, haltingly though the explanation may be, "The Elvhen were immortal, yes, but there were several ways for one to be killed regardless. One of such ways is for them to...fade, I suppose the word would be. They would act exactly as you are right now and the pain would slowly kill them."

I blink, "The...The pain? So... You know what this pain in my chest is? It feels like dozens of daggers simultaneously ripping my chest to pieces with serrated edges."

His eyes narrow, "You are feeling it that intensely? How long exactly has this been occurring?"

"Since we last spoke," I admit, eyes dropping to his chest instead of his face.

"That does not make sense... You could not be feeling such pain so intensely after only a few scant weeks," he ponders aloud, and I can almost hear the thoughtful frown in his voice.

On impulse, I reach forward to grab the hand not sending healing magic through me. He stills at the touch, but I simply pull it to me. I wonder at the feel of it, and suddenly realize that it's been a long time since we had a friendship that allowed these little touches. The thought sends pain landing through me once more and my grip tightens before I release him with a sigh. If he doesn't like me... Well, I won't make him.

The hand I had grabbed reaches forward and grips my other shoulder, "Lethallan, what were you thinking just then?"

I don't question how he knows that I started hurting more. Obediently, I reply, "I won't make you like me. If you don't, I can live with that."

His grip tightens to the point of pain, "You believe that... I dislike you? And that thought makes this worse?"

I shrug, a noncommittal hum escaping me.

And to my surprise, he drops his forehead onto my shoulder, still gripping my shoulders. His magic has long since ceased to run through me, and instead lay just at the edge of my perception.

I awkwardly pat his back, "Uh, it's okay? I've come to terms with it. It hurts, yeah, but it'll pass."

There she is! Great, now that reasonable me has made a reappearance, I can deal with this accordingly!

Before I can soothe him with any placating words, he lifts his head up and stormy eyes bore into my own. The words die in my throat as I struggle to breathe properly, his stare intense enough to unnerve me.

"Elvhen had another condition, much rarer and infinitely more dangerous," he speaks softly, "A few times I have seen it. When two of the People were born for each other. This was a very rare and coveted bond, as if the two acknowledged the bond then they could become exceedingly powerful indeed. If they rejected it, or felt rejected, they would become irrational and experience fading at an extremely increased pace."

I blink, taking all of that in before laughing lightly, "Sounds like some of the soul mate AU stuff from back home."

Solas hums, "That would indeed be the word for it in Common. Nas'falon, two people who are each other's perfect fit."

When it finally clicks in my head why he brought that up, my eyes widen. He must see that moment too, because his eyes darken with sorrow and he murmurs, "I am so sorry..."

Okay, this I know! This asshole is only apologizing because he perceives being bound to him as some sort of punishment or bad thing! Presumptive bastard!

With a fire lit in me unlike any I've experienced before, I narrow my eyes, "Well, I'm not."

Solas' eyes connect with mine once more and I take my opportunity to drag myself closer and lean up to press my lips firmly to his.

A heartbeat passes and I've almost convinced myself that he probably didn't want this, that I'm a jerk who just forced a kiss on him. But then he uses his grip on my shoulders to pull me to him, one hand lowering to help pull my leg up and around for a more comfortable position. The other drags down to my waist to hold me firmly to him as he responds to the kiss in a way that has my head spinning and my chest burning. This time, in a much more pleasant way. Indeed, the pain in my chest has pretty much disappeared completely, leaving in its wake a fire burning.

I gasp aloud when he nips at my lips, and he uses he opportunity to deepen the kiss. I pull back quickly, trying to ask him if he's really okay with this after all of the careful distance he's established, but then his teeth are at my neck and it's all I can do to stay silent. We are still in the war room, after all.

It's that reminder that finally pulls me back to reality and I grip his face firmly with my hands and drag him up to eye level with me, "Solas, are you absolutely certain of this? I know you never wanted to be this close to me, and I'll respect any distance you need."

His hand on my waist glides up to my back to draw soothing patterns there, "I...admit that I attempted to keep my distance. But only because the depths of what I was beginning to feel frightened me. You were just a human girl, I was not ready for that. And then I started to feel pain at the thought of you parted from me and l suppose I panicked. I pushed you away instead of keeping you close, and it may have killed us both. I find that I cannot bring myself to justify such distance. Not anymore."

I process that and groan in exasperation, "Really? Just, really? You seriously do not have the greatest track record when it concerns hasty decisions, do you?"

He peers at me, "And that is another this we should discuss. You know of me? You have known since the beginning? Why didn't you say anything?"

I snort humourlessly, "Because I knew it wouldn't really matter, you would still find a way to to do what you thought you needed. And to be honest, I cared for you even then."

He frowns, "I see..."

I lean forward and kiss him lightly on the nose, "You are the only man I know who can be so broody all the time. We should vacate the war room."

As though realizing where we are, he actually chuckles, a smile appearing in place of the frown, "Yes, perhaps we should."

I lean forward again as though to kiss his nose again, but bypass it in favor of kissing his cheek and then up to his ear and murmuring, "Besides, with the way you responded, I think we should leave before we ruin the maps."

It's probably a stupid decision, but I catch his earlobe between my teeth after that. Mostly out of curiousity, to be honest. After all, most fanfics I read back home always said that elfy ears are very sensitive

And honestly, his reaction is amazingly satisfying. And, much to my slight guilt, really funny.

His hand on my back snaps back down to my waist, a shudder travelling through his body. The gasp that left his lips has me grinning and pressing a soft kiss to the skin next to his ear.

That grin is wiped off my face when he stands, _still holding me!_ I squeak at the sudden movement and cling onto him tighter, moving my hands from his face to lace around his neck and gripping his waist with my legs.

He laughs a little at my predicament and lowers me down.

I hiss at him, "Fuck you and your height, jerk."

The look he sends me goes straight to my core and I straighten despite my red face and turn to march out of the room. Before I can, he catches me around the waist and presses a kiss to the back of my neck before turning me around to give me a proper one.

After he's done thoroughly destroying my ability to breathe, he smirks at me, "Perhaps later. I have studies to attend to."

He lets me go and it takes so long for me to process what just happened that he's already out the door and halfway down the hall before I yell, "Asshole!"

I can't stop smiling, though.


End file.
